


Wolves

by ziyazu



Series: Playlist [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Erica Reyes, Beacon Hills AU, F/F, Seasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:23:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziyazu/pseuds/ziyazu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By the time she gets to English third period, she’s seen three pairs of eyes go wide as she passes, sniffing, startled, and she opens her crisp, clean copy of A Town Like Alice with a smirk on her lips. </p><p>No wolves in California? Please.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wolves

**Author's Note:**

> A series of ficlets paired with songs.
> 
> This one is [Wolves by The Accidental](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttum1g_-5PM).

Erica arrives in town in January, the sleet-filled winds blowing long-dead leaves around her as she walks through the doors of the school. By the time she gets to English third period, she’s seen three pairs of eyes go wide as she passes, sniffing, startled, and she opens her crisp, clean copy of A Town Like Alice with a smirk on her lips. No wolves in California? Please.

By May, even up in the mountains heat is simmering on the trailing edge of spring, promising a tempting peek of days gone summer, weekends filled with sun-baked skin and chlorine-soaked hair, stolen beer mixed with pizza sauce on her tongue. Her eyes glow bright on the full moon and so do the others’, howls and happy yips filling the night with the sound of _pack_. Her golden curls bounce on her shoulders, and her heart beats faster as she smiles under the stars.

In August, when she dreams, she dreams of strawberry-blonde hair, of tiny bikinis and small white hands on her stomach, her back, wafting the sweet-warm smell of coconut through the air. Wide hazel eyes dance above a pouting mouth that kisses hard, that tastes like danger, and when Lydia bites playfully at her neck she laughs around a bite of peach, juice glistening on her chin in the sunshine.

January comes again, and she plays Little Red Riding Hood, her dress a brilliant ruby as she spins, snow falling around her bare feet. The door opens warm at her back, but the woods beckon beyond, cold and still and blue like the horizon after a storm. She sees a flash of copper in the trees, and she runs.


End file.
